4. Casey
four
Casey
T he cabin left much to be desired, just a small rustic space with two beds, a tiny bathroom, and an even tinier shower, but at least it was warm, which was more than I could say for outside. And it was quiet. So quiet that I struggled to sleep; it was like my thoughts were echoing in my head — mostly thoughts of going back home and never thinking of this summer camp again.
By the time I woke, I felt certain that I was going to turn down Matt’s job offer. This camp was not at all my style, and Matt could find someone better qualified than a college junior to do whatever vague thing he needed done.
Though he might have to pay someone with real experience a bit more than he was offering me.
Was that why he was so keen on hiring me? I groaned and flopped over onto my stomach, covering my head with the blankets and wishing I could take back this whole weekend.
“So, you gonna take the job?” Oliver’s voice came from across the room.
“Of course I’m not going to take the job,” I grumped. “This camp is… in the wilderness. And Sutton is engaged, enjoying tropical paradise without me.”
Oliver laughed. “I’m not sure what Sutton’s engagement has to do with it. And I think it’s beautiful here.”
“Beautiful to look at a picture of. Deadly to live in.”
“Stop saying things in that weird ominous voice,” Oliver said. “It’s just a normal small town in the mountains. There is a tourist town just a few miles down the road, and we’re like two or three hours from Seattle at most. You’re acting like it’s the remote Alaskan wilderness.”
“I heard wildlife outside, Ollie. Wildlife!”
“Pretty sure that was a squirrel. We have squirrels at home.”
“Whatever. Matt is insufferable.”
“He seemed super nice to me. And think about how it would look on your resume,” Oliver said.
“I could get a job that would look nice on my resume anywhere! Preferably in a city!”
Oliver shook his head and pulled out a book, flipping it open to the first page. “Yeah, not like this. You’d be involved in building a whole new music and arts curriculum. That’s huge. Great for the resume.”
“Only if I can convince Matt to do it.”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“Not really.” I stood and paced over to my bag, digging through it for an outfit to wear.
“I think you’re scared shitless and making excuses.”
“Oh, fuck off. I’m not scared, I can do this! I will do this! I’ll convince Matt to change his mind. This will be the best damn progressive music curriculum of any summer camp ever!”
“Uh-huh.” He turned a page in his book.
“I know you just manipulated me, but I need a shower too much to care!” I said, storming off into the tiny bathroom. How did a person as big as Matt shower in a shower this tiny?
I supposed, as the camp’s director, he might have had better accommodations. Which definitely did not make me picture Matt in his better accommodations. Or naked, in a shower.
Hell, lumberjack boy probably had a full bush and back hair. And a huge dick.
Ugh, why did my brain go to his dick size? I rooted through my toiletries kit and pulled out the cute little travel-sized soaps and shampoos I’d bought at my favorite Korean skincare store. That was one good reason to take the job — I had an expensive skincare routine to fund. I wedged myself into the tiny shower, then groaned in delight when deliciously hot water came out.
At least there was excellent water pressure. And someone had fitted a nice shower head onto the shower, maybe trying to make up for the tiny size. I stood under the water for a long while, just absorbing the heat and contemplating the life choices that had brought me to a tiny cabin in the woods.
As I brushed my teeth, my phone buzzed, and I lunged for it on the counter, finding a message from Matt there, telling me he’d take me for a tour of the camp in twenty. I groaned and got dressed in several layers of warm clothes, then glared at my brother as I slammed out of the cabin. Matt was standing outside, holding a bag of something.
“I don’t want the job.”
“Egg sandwiches?” he asked, pulling two paper-wrapped parcels out of the bag. “I got one for your brother.”
“You will not sway me with free food,” I said. “But thank you. And thanks for feeding Ollie.”
“Hey, if I need to feed your chauffeur to get him to keep driving you up here, so be it.”
“He will not be driving me up here because I will not be taking the job.” I knocked on the door and gave Oliver his sandwich. Oliver was delighted and waved at Matt.
“Want to join us?” Matt asked.
Oliver shook his head. “No, I think I’ll take a little walk myself. A peaceful, quiet walk.”
He slammed the door in our faces before I could ask him why he thought Matt and I wouldn’t be peaceful or quiet.
I turned to Matt. “I can’t work for your camp. It’s too far, and you need someone with more experience than me. And you said it yourself, you find me irritating.”
Matt handed me the sandwich. “You’d think you’d be accustomed to people finding you irritating by now.” There was a sparkle in his eyes that told me he was teasing me and made the blue color look even prettier.
“Shut up.” I glared at him as I unwrapped the sandwich, taking a big bite. “Oh my god, why is it so good?”
“Something about the mountain air,” Matt said with a shrug. He lifted a hand as if to pat my shoulder, then seemed to think the better of it and did an awkward wave thing instead. “Come on. Let’s walk this way.”
“There’s snow that way.”
He looked around at all the snow, and those irritating eyebrows shot up. “I promise, I’ll keep you safe from the yetis.”
“There are yetis?” I screamed before realizing he was joking. Obviously. “Ha ha ha, just playing along.”
He turned and motioned for me to follow, not acknowledging the whole screaming thing, though I was sure he was regretting his choice to have Sutton call me.
As he walked, he pointed out different things, clearly proud of his camp. We passed the camper dormitories and the smaller counselors’ cabins that sat in a ring behind the dorms, and he explained that counselors worked in pairs of two, each taking a cabin full of campers around for different activities, like hiking or mountain biking.
The thought of mountain biking hammered the nail in the coffin of this summer job. I mean, come on.
I would not look good in a helmet.
Well, maybe I’d look hot in a sexy motorcycle helmet, seated behind my hot biker boyfriend.
I shook myself and forced myself to focus on Matt, who had moved on to showing me the camp’s various huts and shacks. There was a gear shack, a kayak shed, a science cabin, a rock-climbing wall, and finally, the arts and crafts hut, which definitely looked like a hut, and not the good kind. Was there a good kind of hut? I wasn’t sure, I’d have to look that up later.
“And up here is the bathhouse, where campers go for showers.”
“They don’t have their own showers?”
“The cabin you stayed in is the only one with a shower,” Matt said. “Usually, we give that to an older couple who does the cooking. The counselor cabins have sinks and toilets, but no hot water. The rest of the campers and staff use the communal showers and toilet buildings.”
“Toilet BUILDINGS?” I gasped in horror. “Like you have to walk outside? In the dark?”
Matt smirked. “Right, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that until after you took the job.”
“Good luck convincing me now,” I muttered, following him up a hill behind the cabins.
“And this is where we do barbecues and bonfires,” he said, pointing to a circle of benches around a raised platform, which someone had cleared of snow.
“Oh! It would be perfect for performances, do you ever have those?” I stepped up onto the platform and looked around, forgetting my grumpy mood as I spun. “Perhaps a camp talent show? Theater in the round just like it used to be, under the stars!”
Matt was just staring at me, the corners of his mouth tilting up under his beard. He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking at his feet. “Ah, no. We haven’t done that before.”
“So how does the outdoor stuff work?” I asked. “If there’s a mountain biking counselor and a rock climbing counselor, can’t there be a music counselor?”
He frowned at me. “That’s not how we do it. Each counselor team is in charge of a cabin of twelve kids; they take them around to the different activities. Activities with safety requirements, like swimming, have additional help, but otherwise, it’s just cabins.”
“But you don’t have cabins.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the campers are in single and double dorm rooms now, right? And they’re all old enough to walk themselves to different activities, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” he said slowly.
“Why not have the counselors teach the activities they’re best at? Have two counselors responsible for art, two for music, two for the rowboats, that sort of thing. It would give the campers the best experience with each activity, and it would give them a chance to get to know more of the kids. Or to avoid activities they hate.”
“Kayaks,” he said, his eyes unreadable.
“What?”
“They’re kayaks, not rowboats.” He looked out over the lake, frozen and glistening white in the late winter sun, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking about. Probably about how wrong I was.
“Anyway, it’s just a random thought I had, not a real plan. Besides, I don’t want the job.”
Matt turned and stared at me, his eyebrows pushing together. “Ah.”
“Thanks for the breakfast sandwich, though!”
“What if I let you plan the music and arts curriculum?”
I blinked. “The whole curriculum? Like, I’d get to choose what you do?”
“Within reason. We’re just a summer camp. We do have a rather tight budget.”
Shit. Oliver had been right. This job would look good on my resume. “I’ll think about it. But I don't think we jive.”
"Don't think we jive," Matt repeated, eyebrows shooting up.
"Yeah, you know, we keep arguing."
Matt shrugged. "Sometimes arguing leads to good ideas."